


Whiskey and Tequila

by Rejuvenescenceia



Series: Wicked Games - A Sherlock Holmes AU [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sherlock Holmes AU, Anal Sex, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erratic Narration, First Time, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Sex, Sherlock Jesse McCree, Watson Gabriel Reyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rejuvenescenceia/pseuds/Rejuvenescenceia
Summary: After the events of Black-Handed, it's time for a much needed talk. Jesse's a little stubborn at first, but he knows who he wants more than anything.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Series: Wicked Games - A Sherlock Holmes AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1519064
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	Whiskey and Tequila

**Author's Note:**

> The boys in 221B finally get around to talking, and acknowledging this thing that's been building between them. Jesse proves he's too impatient to wait for what he wants.

_ One thousand, two-hundred and ninety six minutes, give or take a few seconds.  _ The number slipped into his head, burning neon behind his eyelids, a sign buzzing in the foggy air of some dank alley. An alley that smelled faintly like hot metal and vinegar and rain.

Another tick in his hand, skin flushing, a little chill pulling along down his spine like it was yoking him. He could hear the sizzle on a spoon just as well as he heard the  _ tick-tick-tick  _ of that antique Mauthe clock sitting on the shelf next to a box of locks. The coffee pot grumbled quietly, and he wished the smell of the fresh brew was enough to drown out that  _ burning _ he felt in his head. 

_ Tick-tick-tick _ , his index finger matched it on his belt buckle. Another shiver-shudder- _ shake, _ and Jesse had to work his tongue around his mouth, build up some saliva, because he felt so very  _ dry. _

In his heavy use days, he’d always needed a fix. Six hours. Specifically, from last rush to that first dangerous  _ yawn, _ three hundred and sixty seven minutes and twenty-two seconds. He’d timed it. That was the average before his  _ triceps brachii  _ began to go  _ twitch-twitch-twitch, _ and then the fever began to creep in with the nausea and the restless legs. When he began to observe some semblance of sobriety, it eventually shifted out to twelve hours. It had been twenty-one point six hours, and the twelve hour mark with the yawn and the twitch - always in the left arm, never in the right - had long since passed.

_ Tick-tick-tick, fix-fix-fix, _ tingling, floating, safety, sleep.

A small laugh, quiet and pleased, broke past the antique clock and the tiny hisses of the finishing pot, or even the rumble of the AC. Gabriel liked it cold. 

He tilted his head, eyes cracking open a little. Effort, that was effort, and there were  _ so many colours _ . Good-byes were being said. Jesse had already hugged Hana, he realized, and bid his own good-bye. A gentle kiss on the top of her head, a wish of luck, a hug. She was wearing a new shampoo, probably bought at a boutique somewhere, scented with jasmine.  _ Echo wears jasmine. Sometimes she spreads the petals in her wardrobe amongst her clothes.  _

He hated  _ this _ too, when his memories moved in such a way that he didn’t know if he imagined it or lived it, and that was enough of a problem when he was stone cold sober. Just then it was like touching a slider on a video and randomly striking it.

_ I think I need to call Genji again, _ he thought, trying to focus on that. Unbidden, one of his dealers’s numbers danced through his head one number at a time, each in neon, like every single minute had once danced. He’d be downtown at his usual place...

Gabriel’s beautiful laughter cut across him, knocking those thoughts out of his head, sending them rolling over the ground. The sound was like a solid thing, a spar to cling to if he wanted. Suddenly the room was clear and as it should be, and for a moment the muscle twitches and aches were gone. The moment was shattered when he blew out a breath and a muscle ache made his stomach cramp. 

_ Damn. _

When his name was called Jesse waved. The words that came out of his mouth were kind, funny, and he didn’t remember any of them the second after he’d said them. Lynx fixed him with a look, their eyes scanning him critically. Brown with little gold flecks, easily seen even at a distance, caught beyond the lens of their glasses. There was a scratch. He could see that even though he was probably twenty feet away, leaning against the kitchen table.

Jesse turned away and headed down the back hall, his mind working down that scratch in Lynx’s glasses. Perhaps they’d dropped them on their work bench, maybe they’d forgotten a pin in their hoodie and set to clean them with the same fabric. 

One of the worst things about going off, Jesse figured, was you didn’t know if you were going to be sick. At least when it was some cold turkey plan riding it out alone, or in Angela’s clinic, he  _ knew _ he was going to throw up, and it made it easier to deal with. The nausea could not be predicted or mastered. Like this everything was a mystery, and not the kind he liked. 

His goal wasn’t something he kept in the medicine cabinet. Had he lived alone it could have been another story, but the little packet and its damning name was too much a clue for what  _ he _ was for Gabriel to ever see.

Jesse went into his bedroom. The place was organized to his liking, but no one else’s. Books and boxes and weapons and pens and paper. He walked around obstacles without thinking, his eyes on the pair of boots next to his bed, rarely worn. Cognac brown, ostrich skin, shorties. A gift from Echo. He upturned the left one and let the packet fall out into his hand. 

Angela didn’t know he’d swiped them, and honestly he ought to be going to her asking for help, but he didn’t want her or anyone else in the house to know right now, or to leave. Leaving was a temptation, and letting Angela know wasn’t an option. Not yet. Not unless it was bad. He didn’t want to think he’d disappointed her. She’d get that tiny line between her eyebrows and she’d  _ smile _ but it would be  _ that smile, _ the one that was a frown.

He stared at the little pill, thinking as the plastic slipped over the chalky tablet. The voice in his head reminded him it was his last chance, the number of his dealer once again parading through his mind.

Jesse pulled a small bottle of orange juice from his bedside drawer, opened it, broke the tablet and dropped it inside. Once the cap was closed he began to shake it, an erratic pendulum swing in his left hand. Every now and again that diminishing white tablet would appear in the orange juice and hit the plastic.

The front door closed, the lock turned. Even as far away as he was, Jesse could pinprick both that sound and the stupid clock. In the hallway beyond he could hear the click of Gabriel’s cane and he felt a sudden spike of excitement in his chest, something he knew he should be cautious of, or scared of.

_ Alone, we’ll be alone together. Duty done. The vessel is full, as Gabriel would say. _

But after a beat, a tiny little thought curled.  _ Is it full? Have you filled it, or is it empty and wanting more? _

Jesse looked for the tablet in the orange juice. Seeing nothing, he opened the lid and swallowed it in two gulps.

His bedroom door opened. Jesse wiped his lips with the back of his hand, looking at Gabriel, who stared back in relief. Jesse’s eyes moved over him, seeing nothing he didn’t expect to see, and still happy to see that as Gabriel smiled at him that none of it mattered. Knowing him hadn’t  _ changed _ anything. He liked him as much as the first day, the first week, the first month.

The Cat With No Name followed in, his tail held high. Hana had bought him a little red plaid shirt, and after removing a few buttons with his teeth he’d grown accustomed to it, and was now marching proudly about in it. He dove straight into a box, one where he knew he shouldn’t be, but Jesse was back to looking at Gabriel and drinking him in.

“You alright?” asked Gabriel, taking a few steps inside, his eyes moving from the narrow path to Jesse and back again as he navigated. Jesse couldn’t understand what was so difficult.

“Yeah. Well.” He thought about it a moment. He wasn’t alright, and he knew it. “I’ll manage.”

Gabriel studied Jesse’s hands, Jesse could practically feel the critical sweep of his eyes, but he’d already hidden the wrapper of the tablet. “Emergency vitamin c fix?”

“Something like that,” he replied, tossing the bottle aside. While methadone didn’t cause the bliss of heroin, or the warm sensation of security, the muscle aches and nausea were receding, and a sense of wellness was draped deceptively over his shoulders. “Blood sugar was crashing.”

The lies were easy. Too easy. They were  _ always _ easy. And when he met Gabriel’s eyes - sea green, deep and distant and dark, that he’d never be able to do poetic justice to in any of his books - he knew he needed to kick that habit. He wanted to deserve Gabriel. 

He sighed. “Methadone. It was methadone.”

Gabriel paused on his way over, but Jesse didn’t look up. He didn’t want to see judgement or consternation on his face. There was a moment where the words hung in the air before Gabriel’s cane clicked, the shift of weight pressing the locking button against the aluminum tube. It was a comforting sound, if an odd one.

The mattress next to him depressed with Gabriel’s weight, and Jesse leaned for it, for the radiant heat.

Gabriel’s hand found Jesse’s, and their fingers interlaced, feeling as though it were a muscle memory he’d developed years ago. The way they felt was Correct, a natural complement to his own, an inevitability. 

“Did you get it from Angela?”

“In a roundabout way.” It was kinder than saying he stole it. 

“Are you going to go to her and tell her tomorrow what you did?”

He wanted to say no. Sure, he liked Angela and Fareeha. They were some of his only friends. Dr. Ziegler was a gentle, helping angel who never judged him. But he knew that was the asshole way out. He  _ should _ tell her. And Angela wouldn’t tell Fareeha.

“Yeah.”

Gabriel squeezed his hand. “I’ll come with you. I need to return that book to Baptiste anyway.”

It was perhaps the nicest way he was ever told he wasn’t allowed to go off on his own, but he didn’t resent it.

Feeling relaxed, Jesse leaned back over the bed. The blanket provided by the methadone wasn’t as nice as heroin, and never would be, but it was still a comfort. His eyes half closed, he ran his fingers over Gabriel’s arm, tickling the pads of his fingers over the soft hair. His mind was slowing.

“Gabe,” he said after a moment, before letting his other arm fall over his face to shade it, “I need you t’just ask me shit, because honestly, I ain’t gonna be able to tell you a fuckin’ thing without it. I can throw anything I want on paper, spin a yarn, make up a character, steal an accent, but…”

_ A good writer is a good liar. _

Gabriel lay back next to him, his arm held out so Jesse could continue letting his fingertips meander trails down his skin and along his veins. “Alright. Ms. Basu-”

“Echo. Feels weird to call her anything else.”

“You’re going to have to explain that,” said Gabriel. “Her name, I mean. Anyway… I told her what went down to the detail.”

Jesse wasn’t very concerned about that. Echo wouldn’t snitch on either of them for anything. “Alright.”

“Well, first she said that you get lost in your own head, and I get that one. But she also said you might have had a flashback, and you probably need to elaborate a touch on that.”

Jesse didn’t reply at once, shifting to trace the back of Gabriel’s hands. Weathered, drier skin around his knuckles, but strong. “Jack told you about my gang, I reckon. You do much research?”

“Some.”

He sighed. “Well, besides that one prick who got fucking trigger happy…” Thinking about O’Brien was never a treat, “there was someone else who did too. She wasn’t cruel about it. Not like O’Brien was. But she also didn’t like waiting for the longer solution.”

The first mention of Ashe brought the restlessness. Whenever she  _ did _ slip into his mind, it’s quick to follow the need for movement. For pavement underfoot, or to take Abby out to hit the highway somewhere so all he could hear was her rumbling purr and the wind in his ears. Lacking either of those things, he began to shift his feet, and his hand moved faster in its urge to explore, to find something to play with, manipulate.

“She was my partner. She was a little older than me, smart as a whip. I had ideas, she had resources and access to what we needed, and she had charisma. I can charm a person, but she can charm  _ people _ when she wants to, and is sharp tongued enough to get whatever she wants. We were… unstoppable.”

The nostalgia pulled at him like a wave. He closed his eyes, fingers going limp as he remembered how he and Ashe had found each other, and how small time cons had slowly grown until Deadlock was formed. He missed her sometimes, like an ache. Her laugh, her jokes, the devilish look in her eyes.

“When things were getting big, and we had to stop bringing heat down on us, she didn’t seem to think we could be stopped. She thought we were invincible. Between her and O’Brien, I had to make a choice.”

Gabriel’s fingers curled around Jesse’s again. That much and more, Jesse was sure Gabriel knew. He’d been told the ending of the story.

“I tried to get her to stop,” he said. “But A- she was always so fucking stubborn.”

“You loved her?”

Jesse’s lips quirked. He remembered so much of her. The camaraderie, the attitude, the way they knit together so perfectly. Her snowy skin that she had to hide from too much sunlight, her eyes that were far more pink under her contact lenses, the way she liked to be held but would never admit to. Pale white hair sliding through fingertips, and a promise to never let anything come between them.

His heart  _ ached. _

But that was long ago and far away, he knew. And there was a lot of baggage left to unpack about her anyway.

“Something like that.” She was also the first person to suggest heroin as a way of mellowing out. She’d held him the first time his mind had finally,  _ beautifully,  _ gone silent and he’d watched the dustmotes swirl about them, their hair spread on the pillow.

He breathed out, thankful that the methadone was keeping him from craving anything. The thought of that first time lost all its potency with the drug doing its work, letting him look at it clinically instead of with a hungry longing.

“I figured she was that one in a million and I was just going to have to deal with what came after when I betrayed her. Truth be told, I didn’t think I’d find someone else that made me feel that way.”

_Like love._ _Like never really knowing what’s going to happen next, and being so fucking excited for it._

His hand was brushed away by Gabriel’s, but before he opened his eyes rough lips found his. Gabriel’s body was a warm and welcome weight over his own, like a security blanket. 

“I’m going to be honest,” said Gabriel, and the words caused a little pit of dread to settle in Jesse’s stomach, but he focused on them anyway even as his fingers twisted faster against the fabric of Gabriel’s shirt. Still… the other man was still touching him, their lips were brushing against each other’s, and he could feel Gabe’s soft breath on his skin. “I’ve never been all that shit hot about talking things through. I don’t know what’s  _ enough _ and what’s  _ too little, _ and when it’s really just me getting in over my head. And I’m probably going to piss you off a thousand times between now and when I’ve finally found my rhythm. But I do-”

The words broke, and it made Jesse’s brows pinch with worry. Gabriel was holding his breath for a moment before he blew it out, as if trying to steady himself.  _ “Espera.” _

The word caused a spread of warmth in Jesse’s chest, a little bit of hope. From what he observed, Gabriel was more comfortable in English than his sister, Mariana, who slipped between the two sometimes mid-sentence. But he also knew when Gabriel tended towards secrecy, or anxiety, he would murmur in Spanish. Jesse always felt calm listening to Gabriel try to do math, counting out in Spanish and grumbling to himself, because it was a pure expression of Gabriel’s headspace. 

Jesse’s own familiarity with the language stemmed from childhood, so he never had a problem following when Gabriel spoke quickly or muttered under his breath. It was like getting a glimpse at a tiny facet few others saw.

_ “Estoy enamorado de ti,” _ he said quietly, before meeting Jesse’s eyes.  _ “Desde el momento en que nos conocimos estabas en mi pensamientos.” _

Words and charm typically came easily to Jesse, actions always carefully laid out and conceived, but sometimes -

_ He always felt like the swoop of anxiety and anticipation, without the pain of the fall. _

\- his body reacted. Jesse’s hands would seek, touch, pull, and his body would strive to push that restless energy further. In the heat of that moment they found that curiosity and that drive in Gabriel’s body. His fingers curled against the back of Gabriel’s head, through the thick fuzz of his hair that was starting to curl in such a nice way as it grew out, and his fingertips mapped their way down his back, feeling muscles ripple under his touch as Gabriel flexed and brought the two of them closer together, dragging them both up and onto the bed proper. 

Gabriel kissed just like Jesse expected. Intense, demanding, passionate. There was plenty he’d deducted from his mannerisms and his history. Gabriel was a man who was balanced between his moral ideals and the ideals weighed on him from his grandfather. He was an ex-Marine who’d managed to hide a major relationship with a male brother-in-arms through the times of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, a man who enjoyed things passionately but was also a man who enjoyed things because they were shared. Gabriel was, above all things, a man who saw devotion to others a duty.

He tugged on Gabriel’s lower lip when the other man pulled away for a breath, delighting in the way that Gabriel shuddered, his muscles tensing under Jesse’s careful mapping. Jesse knew, more than anything, that everything was ephemeral, and this could be gone the next morning. He had to memorize it, keep it. Gabriel’s body was a landscape, and Jesse the cartographer. He didn’t want a single detail gone to waste and forgotten.

Their eyes met a moment, and Jesse watched with fascination the way Gabriel’s pupils dilated as he drew the other man’s shirt up, dragging fingertips along the curves and angles as he went, until Gabriel sat up to pull it off. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen him topless, and if things progressed it wouldn’t even be the first time he’d seen him naked, but this time was for  _ him _ . It wasn’t an accidental moment through a shower curtain, it was present and demanding and in reach, under hand.

_ Fair’s fair, _ he thought, as he reached for the hem of his own shirt, tugging it upward only to remember it was a button up as his efforts amounted to nothing more than a scramble to the buttons, changing lanes at the last minute. 

“Easy,” said Gabriel, brushing Jesse’s hands out of the way.

_ Easy, _ thought Jesse with a huff, wondering when he’s ever been able to just  _ take it easy? _

As he watched Gabriel move over his torso, parting the plaid fabric to expose his belly beneath, he couldn't help but admire those hands. Rough, thick fingered and knuckled, but also deft, whether the focus was undoing a button, picking a lock, or breaking down a weapon. They were hands that had made a name for themselves in the shadows, hands that had killed as much as they had helped, made powerful and rugged with war only to soften just into retirement. The train of thought, though, was broken as Jesse felt Gabriel’s thumb swipe through the trail of hair below his navel.

“What’s in your head?” The question was conversational, teasing, and made Jesse’s thought process grind to a halt. “Not your brain, but what you’re thinking.”

“Um.” Jesse blinked, trying to focus on that, which caused his efforts to shrug his shoulders out of his shirt to freeze. “I-”  _ answer,  _ “should write a book.”

Gabriel laughed. The shirt came away, pushed off and tossed aside. “About?”

It was another hard question to answer. Jesse couldn’t remember being asked a more difficult one, especially when his own hands were involved, smoothing against and sliding over muscle and skin. Despite the injury, and the lower rate of workouts, Gabriel hadn’t gone completely soft. Diet, genetics, how much the two of them walked, it had kept him trim enough, with a belly just starting to form, but when Jesse ran his fingertips against it he felt nothing but steel underneath, firm and unyielding at a casual touch.

“Never wanted so bad to write one of those awful smutty romance books before in my life,” he replied, before their mouths pressed together. He could taste his tongue, coffee and cigarettes that had washed away the bourbon from earlier, but it was still a nice taste to Jesse. One he could very much get used to.

“Well, if Fifty Shades of Grey can do it…”

The suggestion spun off several ideas, all of which had to be filed in a box for later and hidden out of the way. None of the ideas actually had to do with  _ writing _ a book. “I’d get pissy about her, but honestly, considerin’ what I’m already writing…”

Gabriel just laughed, and it was Jesse’s new favourite sound all over again, especially when he could feel the vibration against his chest, and the puffs of air against his lips, before Gabriel claimed him in another deep kiss.

Gabriel’s thigh pressed between Jesse’s legs, making the fabric of his pants uncomfortably tight, but it was all so very  _ welcome _ . The pressure made his erection throb and he felt his mind break into a tangent, one split between the way Gabriel sank his teeth into Jesse’s lower lip, the other on the fundamental stability of matter and the way he was  _ still wearing pants. _

When heavy hands found his belt buckle Jesse could reflect a moment, with clear eyes, that it was good he was sober. As much more  _ satisfying _ as it would have been to have gotten a proper fix, Jesse wasn’t sure if it would have allowed him to appreciate Gabriel so much more completely. His body, his kiss, the way he moved, all things to catalogue. When Gabriel looked back up and gave Jesse a sly little smile when the buckle came apart, Jesse felt a squeeze behind his ribcage. 

“I fucking love you,” he rushed out, feeling it get so much  _ easier _ with the acknoweledgement, and he knew he’d probably say it too much before long.

Gabriel’s mouth crashed into his again, desperate and hard, like he’d been  _ starving _ for those words. Fingers pet through and tugged at Jesse’s hair, sending a tingle down Jesse’s spine, his hips rocking forward involuntarily. Gabriel’s body felt so good against him, bare chest to chest, and there was still more to be had. Lifting hips, pushing hands, fingernails making their mark against skin before the friction trying to kick the denim away so Gabriel’s body could cover his own, but not without a moment of appreciation, curling his fingers against Gabriel’s thick cock, appreciating it, memorizing the feel of it in his hand. A little above average,  _ thick, _ and he wasn’t circumcised. As Jesse’s hand stroked down he watched a little bead of precum well up, and the sight alone made his mouth water.

A decision had to be made. A quick mental stock said there were condoms and lube close at hand, but he felt impatient, and didn’t know how long he’d have to work himself into this. Taking Gabriel like he’d fantasized so much about was also out of the question, at least until he’d figured out where Gabe’s headspace was at.

He paused a moment, meeting those green eyes, much darker with his pupils blown wide like that. He wanted to see that look in Gabriel’s eyes when he came. He wondered how predatory that look could get. Deadly focus, pleasure, unrestrained enjoyment, they were all beautiful paints. Jesse wouldn’t consider himself an artist, but he wanted to try now.

_ Yeah, I’m not patient enough to save that for another day. _

Jesse kissed Gabriel again as he reached over with his left, fumbling at the bedside drawer, reaching through the quagmire of odds and ends until he found what he wanted. The foil crinkled and he dropped the supplies next to him on the bed. 

“You sure?” Gabriel’s hand curled around the bottle, an excitement lighting into his facial features, and Jesse could feel Gabriel’s cock twitching away against his hip bone at the prospect.

“If I wasn’t I wouldn’ta grabbed those.” He reached up to take Gabriel’s chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I want what I want. But don’t expect me to beg.”

Gabriel’s tongue darted out, licking the pad of Jesse’s fingers, and  _ that _ caused another moment of brain-melt, but then Gabriel was moving Jesse, pushing one leg up so it was against Jesse’s chest, the other lay over his lap. The pop of the bottle lid, and watching him coat his fingers, made Jesse swallow hard. 

“Just don’t treat me like some kinda flower,” said Jesse, hand tight in the sheets.

“You’re not fragile,” said Gabriel, though his wet fingers - cold, but warming fast - slid down Jesse’s perineum to tease at his rim, “so why would I treat you that way?”

He opened his mouth to grumble at him, but then Gabriel pushed and Jesse groaned quietly. Sensitive, maybe because he was so turned on his dick felt like iron, and so needy that even breath against the right patch of skin might feel good, Jesse had to close his eyes a moment and focus. He couldn’t remember how long it had been. Jesse’s sexual partners tended to be fleeting, despite how much he loved sex, and not all of them were permitted to get him on his back.

The stretch burned as Gabriel worked his finger in and out of him, slow at first but building, and Jesse let out a breath he’d been holding, relaxing more. As he did his need and the pleasure only grew.

While Jesse didn’t think he was an  _ insensitive  _ lover, he’d expected Gabriel to be more down to business and less sensual, owing to the last few years being single in the Marines. The knowledge that Gabriel and Jack had had a relationship last as long as it did wasn’t  _ quite _ a factor, since Jesse never saw Jack as a sexual being, but now those things were coming together. Gabriel was patient, trying to work Jesse open painlessly, but it only served to make Jesse try and take what he wanted, rocking his hips down onto Gabe’s hand.

“You’re impatient.”

“I’m only patient when I know I have to wait for what I want.” 

The rub of pressure against Jesse’s prostate as Gabriel added a second finger, and eventually a third, tempered any residual pain with pleasure. It left Jesse squirming and pawing the sheets to find new things to touch, Gabe just a little far to be the object of his examinations. When the other man began to tease at his dick, stroking him slowly, palm wet with how much precum Jesse was leaking, it made Jesse swear and curl his toes. He lost any measure of time, for once drawn and held in the moment. They could have been like this for an hour, or fifteen minutes, he was that blank.

“Babe,” he said, sucking in a breath as the low burn in his gut started to get hotter. “You’re gonna have to fuck me or I’m gonna cum. I  _ don’t wanna wait.” _

Gabriel swore quietly under his breath, but he moved _.  _ The loss of Gabe’s fingers made Jesse whine, and he sat up to watch as Gabe opened a foil packet and roll the condom on. Going without one was - hopefully - for the near future, but he’d respect this for now, especially as he watched Gabriel pour a line of lube down the already slick condom and stroke until he was glistening wet, dripping almost to excess.

“Hurry.” He ought to be less impatient, especially with the way Gabriel was leaning, trying to favour his left side to relax his knee, but all he could concentrate on was how Gabriel was lining himself up now, bracing himself on his left arm.

“What’s the magic word?” Gabriel asked, brushing his lips against Jesse’s. It earned him a bite, which made Gabriel suck a sharp breath in before he laughed.

Jesse threw his head back as Gabriel pressed forward, the stretch entirely different, and his eyes rolled back as another groan escaped his chest. He reached for Gabriel, grabbing at whatever he could find, entire body twitching as he tried to process how  _ big _ Gabriel was even with the preparation, brief though it was. His fingertips dug into the hard muscle of Gabriel’s bicep as his breath left him.

“Fuck. Ah.  _ Fuck. _ ”

“You okay?”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ fuckin’ stop.”

Gabriel leaned down, breathing kisses against Jesse’s lips, his sweaty forehead, before he began to move again. Each rock of his hips was shallow, pushing the breath out of Jesse’s lungs. It was going to ache in the morning, Jesse knew. He could feel that much, even with the dose of methadone numbing his system, but Jesse also knew he’d be pressing at any bite or bruise left behind for just the memory.

Like Gabriel was somehow psychic, Jesse cried out as Gabriel’s teeth sank into his neck, making his hips flex forward. Relaxing more, he hooked his legs around Gabriel’s hips, panting as he scratching at the other man's shoulder blades. In his ear he could hear Gabriel muttering, his words shifting eventually into Spanish, cursing edged with a moan. 

“Gabe.  _ Gabi.” _ He whined as Gabriel reacted to the name, thrusting harder, aching and feeling so  _ good _ all at once. “I wanna cum. Touch me-”

His words were cut off by Gabriel’s mouth, claiming him in a filthy kiss, one he could hardly return as Gabriel reached between them and began to stroke him off. He felt so on edge he could hardly think, toes curling as he flexed again, taking Gabriel to the base. When Gabriel moaned the sound was so perfectly sweet it drove everything home again. 

_ This is happening. _

He wanted to swear, to say something, warn Gabriel. Anything. But he couldn't manage it. Intelligent thought had fled Jesse’s mind, instead his chest rumbling with a long, needy sound before he gasped.

White. The pulse of his body. Pleasure, pure and concentrated, before it burned through him, peaking and making him actually whimper. His brain stopped only a moment before he came back to himself, feeling his cock throb, especially when Gabriel let go.

He met Gabriel’s eyes, stunned by how  _ green _ they were, before he groaned and relaxed as the other man began to thrust again, chasing his own release. It didn’t take long before there was another sound so perfect Jesse felt  _ moved _ by it, and he looked up in time to see that dark need there as Gabriel began to throb, thrust erratically three more times, and hold completely still. His entire body twitched, muscles bunched and corded from his exertion. 

Jesse dimly thought Gabriel looked like a god in that moment, and could see why someone would believe in a higher power, if they’d ever looked on someone so perfect.

Concerns weren’t really there. Drawing out before the lube dried, or the condom could come loose, weren’t a thought yet. It was just coming down from that endorphin rush. Jesse couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed sex this much… and supposed even before, with  _ her, _ it hadn’t been this good. He was no longer a fumbling teenager.

When Gabriel drew out Jesse made an almost catlike sound. The condom was removed, tied, and tossed, before the other man fell over top of Jesse and drew him in. 

Face to face, he watched his eyes. He was aching, tired. He’d need ice in the morning, maybe, and probably would need to take it easy for a few days. It would  _ hurt. _ But…

As Gabriel smiled at him, Jesse found it all worth it anyway.

_ I love him. _ That Gabriel loved him back hardly registered. He’d have been simply pleased if Gabe had only said he liked him. Had a crush.

They shared a sleepy kiss. He knew Gabriel would get up, turn off the light, lock the doors, get a cloth to clean the cum that was coating his stomach, or maybe even make Jesse get up so they could change lube-stained sheets. But he didn’t move. Jesse was glad. He didn’t want the moment to end.

When had he last been so  _ happy? _


End file.
